


Wicked Intentions

by Miss_Lv



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Animal Transformation, BDSM, Bestiality, Bondage, Breathplay, Breeding Bench, Choking, Drugging, Drunk Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, Feral Behavior, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Manipulation, Master/Pet, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Mind bond, Pet Play, Sex with Sentient Animals, Transformation, Voyeurism, collar and leash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-04-07 04:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Lv/pseuds/Miss_Lv
Summary: “How may I help you Mr. Scamander?”“The waheela you purchased,” he began.“What of them?” Percival inquired and Newt realized how rash he was being, bursting into an office and trying to reproach a man without even knowing if he was mistreating the beasts.“M-May I meet them?” He blurted out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beast smut aheadddddd.

Newt had begun with such good intentions.

When he went to visit Tina and heard the rumour that Percival Graves had purchased the last pair of waheela left in the world, he had immediately worried. The waheela was a large sort of bear dogs often referred to as dire wolves. They preferred magical creatures for their main diet and had never hesitated to hunt wizards and witches. That had created such a fear of them that the poor beasts had been hunted to near extinction. There were only two known left in the world and now Percival Graves had bought them for some reason. Newt felt horrid about it all, wanting to know why the man had done so. Did he think they were nice pets? Were they locked in cages and chained down on display? Waheela were large creatures and meant for miles of land, not some pretty cage to pace.

Percival Graves was a solemn and intimidating man from what Newt had seen. He had returned to his job after months of being tortured by Grindelwald. For his suffering, he remained a strong and capable leader that inspired many. He wore confidence and dominance easily and most of MACUSA was in awe of him or deeply respected him.

Tina was the respectful sort.

“He must have a reason; he wouldn’t buy them for nothing. The laws on magical creatures are changing thanks to you, a year ago he wouldn’t have been allowed to bring them into America.”

Newt winced, thinking how his attempts to help had hindered in the end. People allowed to have magical creatures while the creatures themselves had no laws to protect them.

He couldn’t just leave it be, as Tina went on to suggest. So Newt found himself in front of the Director of Security’s office a few hours later.

The man answered the door when Newt knocked, a hand waving to open it with magic as he sat at his desk and looked over papers.

“How may I help you Mr. Scamander?”

“The waheela you purchased,” he began.

“What of them?” The man inquired and Newt realized how rash he was being. He had just burst into an office and was trying to reproach a man without even knowing if he was mistreating the beasts.

“M-May I meet them?” He blurted out, catching them both off guard.

 

Newt was very surprised to find himself going to the man's home. It would have made sense for the man to tell him to piss off and send NEwt away. But he had agreed calmly enough and asked Newt to wait until he was finished his workday.

So now Newt was walking down the MACUSA halls with Percival. Newt had not expected the man to let him just come over, to invite Newt into his home. They had met only a few times and usually in passing. It seemed so odd when Newt had burst into his office and essentially demanded to see the man's creatures and he had agreed. Graves had never been callous to Newt but he also was not overly kind, more indifferent than anything but Newt supposed he was so with everyone he interacted with at work. Newt had no grounds to complain about people's social skills.  

The man seemed to change when they arrived at his home. As if he shrugged off the weight of his job with his coat. He seemed far more relaxed and open now. He explained little bits of the house as he led Newt through the halls of his home. They were outside the city now, vast acres of land laid out before large windows. The place was not what Newt expected, not trendy and modern but old and traditional, warm rather than cold. A well lived in home.  

Newt had a growing feeling he had been wrong to question Percival Graves and his care of the waheela. Exquisite portraits of the creatures hung in his halls, dating back to the formations of MACUSA itself. It was clear the Graves family had an affinity for the beasts and what more, a respect.

They entered a large observation room, floor to ceiling bookshelves on three walls and the last nothing but glass windows that showed the beginning of a forest. It was a place of decadence and wealth but Newt’s attention was on the forest outside the large room.

It wasn’t an enclosure.

It was opened land that clearly went on for many miles, they must be far from New York, a massive forest beginning at the windows.

“Not the cage you were expecting?” Graves noted lightly, not quite scolding Newt for his worries.

“I’m sorry,” he offered honestly and the man looked over at him, hand waving to bring a steaming kettle and cups into the room.

“Oh?”

“I thought the worst without even knowing. I do apologize for that. I only wanted to know they were safe and happy.”

Graves watched him a moment before nodding, motioning to a lush chair across from the one he took.

“The waheela is something of a family symbol. My family has always had a bond with them, we tried our best to stem their slaughter and mourned when they were killed anyway. I’ve gone to great lengths to find and buy these two in order to protect them.”

Newt nodded his head, knowing they had come from private creature collectors. The terrible sort who thought beasts should be on display rather than left free.

“I’ve been trying to research them a bit more, however. It’s why I invited you here actually.”

Newt blinked, glancing at the other man. Graves was looking out into the forest, eyes steady and his expression for once not so somber. He looked almost at ease with the forest spread out before them.

“I’ve never encountered them; I’ve read of them a great deal but never met any.”

Graves shook his head sadly.

“They are almost gone now, only a few left. I’m hoping to try and find mates for them.”

“Mates?”

“The Graves have many books on waheela, first-hand accounts of them. They mate for life you see, the adolescent males seeking females. They’ve been known to travel across the continent searching.”

Newt’s heart hurt for these poor beasts, doomed to hunt for mates that they would never find.

“I’ve been trying other breeds close to them, black dogs for example, canine based creatures. If only for companionship,” Graves explained and Newt nodded, his mind whirling with thought.

“Hellhounds would be larger, closer to their size. Keelut are isolated, a cerburus or raiju maybe,” Newt went through the various beasts he could call up off hand and how they might work together.

“It would help me a great deal to know more about the waheela.”

Graves motioned a hand and a stack of books came off the shelf, some handwritten journals.

“This is what I have on them that I know is factual. From what I can understand, a single female would be enough. In dire times polygamy is common among them.”

“Really? How unusual for a magical creature, most bond mate or prefer isolation.”

Graves nodded, pouring them both steaming cups. Newts was a proper English tea while Graves seemed to be making himself a coffee.

“They share within their familiar packs, from what I understand these two are brothers and so they would bond and coexist with a shared mate.”

Newt couldn’t help but ask more questions, Graves was a wealth of knowledge on a mysterious creature. It was delightful that he wasn’t bias either, never thinking the waheela something to be tamed or feared but rather respected and protected.

They shared dinner in a small kitchen, the man of obvious wealth having no problem sitting at a preparation table and eating as a house elf served them and ate herself as well. It reflected the sort of master Graves was to the creature and Newt felt his heart open a touch more.

Newt talked about his travels, about the world and all the creatures he had met. Graves liked hearing about them, asking questions and letting Newt separate myth from the truth for him.

They ended up back in the observation room with the windows, Newt accepting a drink that was unique to the Graves family.

“Just a bit, I shouldn’t have drunk wine at dinner,” he explained feeling a touch tipsy.

“Celliane means well, she likes a proper meal no matter where I eat. She might faint if I suggested not having a fine wine with dinner,” he chuckled lightly and Newt smiled as well. House elves could be endlessly stubborn about the oddest things.

Newt was back in his chair watching Percival across the room as he mixed drinks at a small bar, adding bits of this and that with a skilled ease. It was clear he was probably very good at making potions.

A movement outside took Newt’s breath, something lurking in the forest, coming closer.

The waheela was massive, Newt truly understood the concept of the bear dog when he saw it. It appeared like a common wolf at first glance but was far larger, bulky and powerful looking like a bear in many ways. It was a mix of black and grey colouring and its eyes were a striking gold shade. The gaze shifted to fixate on Newt and he looked down immediately, not wishing to challenge the creature.

A second came along, a bit smaller than the first.

“They’re gorgeous aren’t they?” Graves remarked, walking to Newt and offering a small glass of a green liquid that glimmered with golden dust. He held his own out and Newt clinked glasses with him. Graves took his drink in a single swallow so Newt followed suit. It wasn’t a strong as he expected, more light and delicate tasting, almost sweet but not quite. Unique and lovely really.

“They really are,” Newt agreed. He watched the man set down his glass and motion Newt to follow him. One of the glass windows was a secret door and it opened up for them, leaving them with nothing between them and the creatures.

“Is this wise?”

“They’re sentient,” Graves divulged and Newt blinked and stared as the man held out a hand to the larger of the two waheelas. It scented his hand and then sat back, head tipped as it peered at Newt curiously.

“This is Newton Scamander, a British Magizoologist. He’s agreed to help me try and match a mate that would be compatible with you.”

“Hello,” Newt offered, not meeting the gaze but carefully holding out a hand for the beasts to scent him.

Both came forward, such massive predators but Newt was composed as they sniffed his hand curiously. Graves watched with open approval of Newt's calm.

The large male nudged Newt’s hand under its nose and he felt an impression of welcome, a vague idea that he was known among magical creatures, trusted and celebrated.

“Oh,” Newt breathed out as the beast broke the touch. “They’re telepathic.”

“In a sense, they don’t think in words like people, more of instincts and emotions,” Graves explained and Newt nodded his head. He was already fascinated and intrigued with these new creatures, his heart hurting that they were the last of their kind, hunted so callously.

“I promise that I am here to help you,” he told them both. “I’ll do everything I can to assist.”

They watched him a moment before slinking off, back into the forest they called their home now.

“They’re amazing,” Newt gushed, unable to help it. His body pumping adrenaline and his mind soaring with meeting such amazing beasts.

“They really are,” Graves agreed with a warm smirk, looking so handsome like that. He poured them another drink and they chatted late, talking about potential mates and how Newt could help protect them by including them in his book.

Percival had plans to speak out in MACUSA on their behalf, to try and submit a law to protect them and other magical creatures in America that were endangered.

He was far more poised and eloquent than Newt ever was but it was obvious he really believed in defending magical creatures. It was clear he cared about them and that endeared Newt to him so much more.

They kept drinking and Newt honestly wasn’t sure who kissed who first. His hands pulling at Percival’s waistcoat as the man pressed him down on his back on a couch.

Hands were all over his body and before long Newt was stripped down and being opened up. He whimpered, biting his lip as Percival’s fingers worked his body. The man poured a slippery potion on his fingers and it made Newt slicked and ready to take his cock.

Percival was wonderfully rough. Newt adored a bit of a feral touch and he encouraged the man to fuck him good and hard.

“Like it like one of your beasts?” Percival teased him, not truly mocking. He was still dressed, his trousers undone so his cock was out and inside Newt’s arse.

“Very much,” he agreed, a bit drunk and too honest and the man over him smirked, looking a bit feral himself as he lunged oh so hard into Newt’s body. It felt frantic and rushed, everything spinning a bit. Newt really shouldn’t have drunk as much as he did. But he was still in his mind, still able to consent and eager to be taken by this fascinating man.

Newt could see the waheela in the forest, watching with their golden eyes.

 

Newt woke in bed the next morning with a pounding headache.

Celliane. the house elf, appeared and gave him a potion. Newt drank it and sighed out as the pain in his skull faded away. There were some perks of being a wizard that were wholly self-indulging some days.

“Feel better?” Percival asked as he stepped from a bathroom, doing his shirt cuffs up.

“Much,” Newt replied, feeling a bit shy as the man sat on the side of the bed and leaned in to press a light kiss to the corner of Newt’s mouth. He smelt of a fine aftershave and his touch was light enough not to be overwhelming. Newt never did well with overly clingy partners. He wasn’t the sort for moving so fast either, sleeping with a man he barely knew.

“I’ve got to leave for work right away but I wanted to ask how long you planned to stay and where?”

Newt fought down a yawn, his body not ready to wake just yet. The sun was barely rising through the window.

“A week, I’m going to head down to Mexico for a month or so after this. I had thought to stay with Tina and Queenie.”

“If I can proposition you, stay here. Celliane will give you access to the floo and you’ll have more time to interact with the waheela that way.”

Newt hesitated, worrying this man was reading more into what Newt was able to give.

“Although you mustn’t take it personally if I’m not here very often. Work has a tendency to run late. It’s no slight on you, but I can’t slack in my job. I’m hoping to give you as much time with the waheela as we can.”

“Of course, I understand completely. I would be happy to stay if you truly don’t mind.”

Percival grinned.

“It would be such a hardship, to have this gorgeous man in my bed. I might not be around often but I will come home every night and give you a good fucking.”

“That would be lovely,” Newt agreed. With Percival gone most of the day, Newt could focus on the waheela and in the night he would enjoy a bed partner. Newt went too long without one when he travelled it felt like. Perhaps they might work something out between them, a casual relationship for when Newt could visit.

 

Percival left for work and Newt dozed for an hour more before waking up. Celliane had a breakfast waiting for him and Newt thanked her and they chatted as he ate. Once he was finished, he went down into his suitcase and did his morning rounds. He spent most of his morning and afternoon working with his creatures and then went back up to write a note to Tina and let her know he had somewhere to stay.

Celliane had a light late lunch waiting for him in the observation room. Newt beginning to read some of the books Percival had shown him as he ate. He felt the distinct impression he was being watched midmeal. He couldn’t see either waheela but he didn’t doubt they were there. Such amazing creatures, Newt couldn’t help but get caught up in the information on them. The books carried the same lovely tone as Percival had, nothing condemning about the creatures at all. They did warn though, caution wizards not to disrespect these beasts unless they wanted to find themselves made into a meal.

There was also plenty on their mating habits. The lead male would be the one to find the first female, seeking them and drawing them to the pack territory. If they were a strong and healthy pack the lesser males would make the journey as well, one at a time. If the pack was weak or their lands not vast enough, they would settle and all bond with the female the lead male brought back. They would all sire cubs off of her, sharing her in every way which was rather unique. Most magical creatures still had the base need to reproduce, to be possessive of any opportunity to breed. The waheela were truly fascinating creatures.

 

As the days drifted by, he simply couldn’t learn enough, taking down notes in his own journal and doing sketches when he saw the waheela. He was content in the Graves manor and it surprised him a bit. But the house was surrounded by vast forestry and everything about it was natural and wonderful. Large windows that let in light, plants everywhere in the rooms. Even entire walls of live plants and it felt more like a forest than a house. Percival kept no beasts that weren’t already a domesticated breed, he had kneazles and crups wandering about as they pleased. Fairies and puffskeins floating in the sunlight. It was all very enchanting really.

Percival himself was warm and charming and so very good at sex. He picked up very quickly that Newt was a bit of a sexual deviant and to his delight, Percival was no better.

“You look so pretty when you cry,” Percival crooned down at Newt. He had him spread out on the bed on his back, Percival between his thighs and fucking him savagely. His one hand was closed on Newt’s neck and squeezing down, choking him with the perfect amount of pressure. Such a firm and certain grip that made Newt want to sob gratefully. He would tighten his grip enough that Newt’s throat burned and his eyes watered, his mind floating a bit. Coupled with the furious pace of the cock slamming into him, it all felt so deliriously good.

“We need to get you a nice tight collar I think, something pretty to match you,” Percival mused, just the slightest pant to his voice for how hard his body was currently working. He was a fit man and he used that so well on Newt. Pinned him down to the bed effortlessly, trained in so many ways to overpower others and hold them down.

“You’d be a proper bitch then,” he growled and Newt whined high as he came untouched.

Percival was very good at sex.

 

Newt was almost sad when the week had passed and it was time for him to go. He had only seen the waheela a handful of times, usually when Percival was around to coax them. There was still so much for Newt to learn from them. He would miss the man himself too, his amused smirks and powerful grace. Newt was sore in the best way, his arse still a bit tingling from a riding crop the night before.

But the call to wander couldn’t be ignored, always seducing Newt to go and find some new place, to discover new magical creatures.

So off he went to Mexico to study a group of occamy that had set up their home in the jungles along the sea.

But while he worked, his mind kept drifting back to the Graves manor. 

Newt found himself daydreaming a bit about it and he wondered what this new attachment was and how deep it went.

 

So he found a charismatic and attractive wizard named Juan and let him take him home. The sex had been a bit ordinary but the man had given it his best. Newt had smiled encouragingly and managed to come to the memory of Percival choking him.

He supposed he had found himself a little slice of heaven then, a wonderful man both outside and in bed. Rare creatures to study and a vast manor that was serene yet still brimming with wildlife.

When Newt finished his work in Mexico he headed back up to America rather than crossing the sea as originally intended. He met new beasts along the way and didn’t rush to return back to New York.

In the end though, he did return.

“I found a bit of time,” he lied when he found Percival in his office.

“Did you now?” The man smirked as he sat back in his chair and waved a hand so his door closed and the lock clicked.

Newt could feel a thrill rushing through him.

In no time at all, he was stripped down and bend over the desk, Percival’s tie wrapped around Newt’s neck as the man fucked him. He used the tie like a leash, pulling Newt to ‘sit pretty’. It was so humiliating and terrible and Newt was begging for more with every breath he could manage to get in.

“Did you let someone fuck you?” The man asked, pulling Newt’s back in each lunge. “You feel loose for months on your own.”

“Weeks ago, a very nice man,” he replied. They had made no promises and Percival had told Newt he had no expectations on such things. Newt was free to do as he wished, to sleep with who he wanted.

“How was it?”

Newt sobbed out, Percival was putting his weight on him, pinning Newt down onto the desk as he pounded into him so cruelly. One hand holding the tie tightly so Newt’s head was bent back, just enough room so he could breathe.

“T-terrible,” Newt’s voice was strained, the words cut low by the silk around his neck.

“Was he kind? Thoughtful? Did his kiss you softly and hold your hand?” Percival teased and they both knew it was the truth. That Newt wanted something not many men would give him without knowing him well. Without a proper relationship.

“A bitch like you needs a firm hand, a strict master,” Percival purred and Newt came with a shiver.

 

Newt began to visit New York more often. Every few months he would make time to stop there. Percival was a wealthy man and happy to pay for the travel, offering port keys and other expedited methods to travel.

So Newt would go and spend a few days being fucked and studying the waheela. As the months slipped by, the beasts began to trust him more. They would come visit him without Percival needing to be there. They would press against his legs and let him touch them. Impressions of happiness to see him and hope for his search for them. They would play with him at times, knocking into him and batting at his legs. They treated him like a cub, gentle games, and Newt was delighted to interact with them.

“You’ve created a true bond,” Percival told him. Coming home at some point and watching them without Newt noticing, the man was very light on his feet.

He was at the glass door, leaning against it and watching as Newt rolled in the dirt with the smaller male in the sunlight. Gaheris was the younger brother and Geraint the elder and calmer one. There was a notable size difference between them and Percival had his house elves feeding the smaller male to keep him healthy. They hunted their own meals in the forest, deer and rabbits being their main food source. Magical creatures weren’t as common and so they made do. Although Percival was certain there were mooncalves and other magical creatures in the forest, the waheela likely feeding on them as well.

Percival and his books didn’t know if the waheela needed to eat magical beings for any special reasons but both males had been thriving since they arrived. Newt would take care to mention it, that they likely could live on regular animals.

Neither male had ever seemed aggressive or predatory towards Newt or Percival either. Some creatures would get lost in their instincts to hunt, Newt had seen it before. But both waheela remained in control at all times. Really Newt was in more danger when Gaheris got over excited wrestling with him, the male forgetting his bulk and how delicate Newt was in comparison. Geriant would snarl at them, reminding his sibling to play nice with Newt.

Their obvious personalities and emotions only convinced Newt more that he just had to find some female for them to live out their days with. They wouldn’t be able to have cubs of their own but they might have a family unit. Newt has been researching carefully and he felt hellhounds would be the best bet, a pack canine that had the size and strength to keep up with the waheela. He was currently waiting to discover one in need of relocation, not wanting to just take one from it’s home. 

Percival pushed away from the windows and walked over to them, Gaheris greeting him with a friendly nudge. Newt was down in the dirt on his backside, panting a bit with the effort of wrestling a large beast.

“You look good like that, rolling in the dirt like an animal,” Percival’s voice took on that low tone that had the hairs on Newt’s neck standing. They were in a secluded area, hidden away with no one to see but it still felt so wicked, outside.

Newt sat forward, going onto his hands and knees and butting the man’s leg affectionately, playing the role. They had been exploring this sexual fetish, of Newt pretending to be a pet. He found himself liking it a great deal, knowing just how to act like a dog or a wolf. Sometimes a waheela or hellhound, magical canines and their behaviour. Percival always figured out the subtle difference as well, knowing exactly which beast Newt was mimicking.

“If you were a waheela bitch we’d all have you, taking turns fucking you,” Percival mused and Newt shivered a bit at the idea of it. He’d barely be able to keep up, Percival always left him breathless, the idea of two more would sure leave Newt utterly fucked out.

Lifting his foot, Percival put his shoe on Newt’s shoulder and gently but firmly led him down. Newt whined as he went, his face in the dirt as the shoe rested on the back of his neck. His shoulders pressed to the earth while his arse remained raised high. He could feel his cock fattening up and his hole clenching and longing to be filled.

“Lick it,” Percival commanded as he moved his foot off Newt’s neck and put it in front of his face.

Feeling so humiliatingly wrong, Newt obeyed, lapping at the shiny leather and tasting the dirt on it.

Gaheris pressed his snout in, trying to understand why Newt was licking. His large face pressed close and Newt shivered at the feel of the beast’s fur on his cheek and shoulder. The impression of curiosity.

“He’s being obedient,” Percival told the creature. “A good bitch.”

Newt felt something curl around his neck, Percival’s magic guiding a collar to snap around his throat. It felt restricting and like an ownership and Newt found himself revelling in it. The idea of Percival holding this power over him all because Newt chooses to let him have it.

A delicate leash came and snapped to the ring of the collar and Newt was tugged up, back to his hands and knees.

“Come along, I’ve plans for you tonight,” Percival decreed and Newt whined out as he followed. Crawling subserviently after the man who led him by the leash like he was a common pet.

“It took time, it was a custom order, but I wanted it to be perfect,” he explained as Newt found a black leather contraption in the observatory. The chairs moved aside and a black wood and leather piece of furniture front and centre. There was a padded top with four thick legs, a bit like a low sawhorse.

“It’s a breeding bench,” Percival explained and Newt trembled at the realization. Thick leather cuffs on the end of each leg, for his wrists and knees to be bound into. “And you’re going to be on it tonight.”

 

They didn’t rush into play, Percival liked to work Newt up and watch him squirm for it. So he stripped him down naked and put a thick plug into his arse. A too big thing that made Newt’s poor hole ache trying to adjust. There was a fluffy tail on the end of it that hung between his thighs, teasing his cock each time he moved.

Feeling degraded and exposed, Newt crawled after Percival to the kitchens and ate his meal from a bowl on the floor. It was a thick stew that he had to lap at and was unable to eat without getting all over his face. Celliane was thankfully nowhere to be seen, leaving only Percival and Newt. The man smirked down at him from the table and would reach with a napkin to wipe Newt’s face, reminding him of the mess he was making.

“Every drop now,” he reminded Newt and watched him struggle to lick the bowl clean without using his hands, chasing it across the floor.

His cock was achingly hard, his hole feeling so opened and the tail torturing Newt now. He wanted so badly to come and he knew it would be hours yet. Percival would draw this out until Newt was broken by it, begging and crying for anything the man would give him.

They went back to the observatory, the doors still opened to the forest but the waheela gone now, likely off to hunt as darkness descended.

The breeding bench remained waiting for Newt.

Percival stopped and made them a drink, mixing his favourite and he had Newt sit at his knee and raise his head to swallow it when Percival gave him one. The second was more potent, laced with a lust potion. Percival took his own, his eyes glinting with a wicked intention.

Once Newt felt light headed and his desire began to burn far too hot, Percival led him over to the bench.

“Eight taps, two fast and then two slow, and then four fast, like this,” Percival showed him, tapping the edge of the leg of the bench. “It will undo the cuffs immediately.” 

Newt nodded in understanding, not speaking as animals did not speak. He liked that aspect, not having to trip over words.

Percival guided him onto the bench, his stomach and chest resting on the comfortable padding as the cuffs locked on his wrists and knees, keeping his thighs spread out wide in submission. Newt was trapped kneeling down like a beast, his arse slightly raised in offering to whoever wanted it.

“Tap the rhythm to release them.”

Newt did it.

Percival redid the cuffs with a wave of magic.

“Again.”

Newt obeyed, doing it over until Percival was certain Newt could escape if needed.

“Head up, pretty bitch,” he instructed and Newt lifted his head high. Percival had a gag in his hand, a ring of metal that fit into Newt’s mouth and didn’t let him close it all the way, his lips just parted.

“Perfection,” the man declared, walking around Newt and taking in every bare inch of him.

“Let’s see what it can take, shall we?”

Newt felt the blindfold wrap around him just as Percival picked up a riding crop.

Anticipation and the lust potion made Newt squirm, biting down on the gag as he waited for the first sting.

It came across his thighs, making him jerk hard. Percival followed it with four more in rapid succession, up Newt’s arse and along his back. He circled Newt’s prone form lazily and landed hits without warning. They had a bite of pain but didn’t linger, the crop spelled not to leave any lasting damage. So Percival could hit Newt over and over without breaking his skin, he could lash him so hard and the bite would be so exquisite but then fade within a moment, leaving Newt needing more. 

The gag made him drool, spit running down his chin as he couldn’t close his mouth. Each muffled cry from the blows making more of a mess. A drooling beast. So humiliating.

Newt’s cock was throbbing, needing just a bit more to finish.

Percival stopped then as if he knew it and Newt sobbed, pulling on the bindings. His hips were resting on the padding and his knees secured tightly so Newt couldn't even thrust. He was completely at the man’s mercy.

“Pretty bitch, such a fine specimen, a beautiful thing like you should be put on display, shown off. Bred up, I bet you’d make gorgeous pups.”

Newt whined out as Percival’s hand ran along his back and arse, fingers light and teasing.

He yanked the plug out without warning Newt jolting at the red-hot pain of the fat thing coming out that caught him off guard. It only lasted a second though and Newt was left feeling exposed, his hole loose and trembling. He clenched down but still felt so open.

“Utterly gorgeous,” Percival breathed from behind him, gentle fingers caressing Newt’s rim, running along the edge and sinking in easily, three fingers going without effort.

Something cold touching him there and startled him. Newt whined as a smooth long and thick object slid up into him. He couldn’t tell what it was but he felt it pouring inside him, something slippery running down his thighs as Percival eased it back and out of him. His hole clenched and made wet sounds now, clenching on the lubricant pumped into him.

“You’ve such a pretty cunt, so pink and gleaming,” Percival breathed out, sounding so admiring as his fingers wiped along the slicked hole.

Newt heard the zip of trousers and his body trembled with excitement, eager to be taken and used.

“Are you read you to be bred, my precious bitch?”

Newt nodded his head in the small bit of room he had too. Whining out as Percival slid his cock into him. He teased so terribly first, rubbing it over his rim and popping the tip in and out. Newt couldn’t move his hips at all and he bucked in the restraints, trying to take more.

Percival chuckled at him, finally slamming into Newt and making him croon in relief, not caring about the spit running down his chin as he arched his back and relished in the feeling of a cock inside him. The alcohol and lust potion was making the world a bit hazy, everything burning so bright. Newt needed to come, he just needed it so very badly.

A savage ram into him made him cry out again, quivering with how good it felt. The slack leash on him lifted with magic, twisting around to the back of his neck and Percival took hold of it. Pulling until Newt was straining to breathe, his hands cuffed to the floor and his neck only able to bend back so far.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Percival told him.

A soft chime made them both startle. The sound of a fire call echoing down the hall. Percival’s hands ran down Newt’s back and calmed the panic in him.

“They can’t see, the fireplace is in the other room,” he reassured quickly and Newt slumped in relief.

“Why don’t you wait here for a bit? Really think on how hard you’re going to get fucked,” Percival teased as he stepped back and Newt whimpered as the man’s footsteps faded down the hallways, going to answer the call somewhere else. The man was only contacted at home for serious issues. 

Newt was forced to remain there, waiting for him to come back, his body aching with need. His head still spinning with no way to anchor himself. He whined out and clenched his hole, wanting to be filled again.

Something clinked delicately, the wind dancing on Newt’s skin. But he could feel a presence in the room. He fumbled to tap the rhythm to release the cuffs when fur brushed his side and a nose puffed in greeting at his ear. Newt relaxed, knowing it was only Gaheris and Geriant come exploring. They had come into the observatory before, everything in the room spelled to be resistant to them snuffling about.

Newt realized he could hear the faint patter of rain and that the waheela had come to escape the summer storm.

One of them, Gaheris likely, sniffed at Newt’s face and licked at him without warning, cleaning the spit off his face as Newt tried to move his head away and escape it. Lust poured through him, the potion making him so needy that any stimulation felt good.

Geraint’s cold nose on his backside made Newt jerk hard, the beast’s hot tongue licking over his arse. It’s tongue like nothing else, long and flat as it lapped over his dripping hole. He could feel them both, curious for this display he was putting on, sensing his lust and answering it with their own.

Newt fought the bindings, whimpering in alarm as the two creatures kept licking at him, at his face and backside, duel sensations that were making his body throb for more.

His fingers fumbled the release rhythm but missed a beat.

Newt crying out as Geraint’s tongue disappeared and then a sudden great weight was on Newt’s back. He could feel the creatures hunger and feral excitement, he had never mated before. Newt would be his first.

The weight of him nearly took Newt's breath, pushing him into the padding as the creature on top of him adjusted and found his footing. Something hot and long pushed at Newt’s backside, sliding up along the cleft of his arse. Pulsing and dripping as it rocked back and forth.

It felt divine.

Newt was repulsed but it felt so good, so massive and just promising something terrible. Geriant's own lust a simple but powerful thing. There was an excited bitch displaying and so he would mate him. Percival was pack and would share his mate. Newt sobbed at the waheela's thoughts, impressions of Newt with them from before and bonding, the mistaken impression they would all share him.

Newt tried to think clearly and make him understand but the lust potion was muddling his mind, the cock against his skin feeling so heavy and promising.

The beast over him growled, Geriant warning Gaheris away no doubt, the young male whining as he watched them.

Newt’s fingers found the unlock rhythm and the cuffs unlocked. He reached back, grabbing Geraint’s front legs around his waist and the beast thrust again, that fat cock kissing Newt’s hole lewdly. Sloppy with lubricant and clenching down on nothing. Newt moaned out unwillingly, his fingers trembling in the fur he was gripping but not pushing the creature off of him.

Geraint’s breath panted on his neck and shoulder and he moved back, crouching low as his cock slide back. He wanted in, wanted to know what mating felt like. Since he grew into a male he had wanted this. Newt felt him ease forward with more care than before. The tip of the waheela’s cock finding his rim and pressing in a few inches.

Move, he screamed at himself but his body stayed there, quivering as it was finally filled up, finally given something to hold inside it. The knowledge that the beast over him was excited for this, he could feel the delight and hunger. Geriant wanted him and Newt couldn't make himself stop the poor creature.

Newt screamed out, the gag muffling it when Geraint slammed into him.

It was nothing like a man, nothing about it feeling controlled in any way. No care for Newt’s body as the beast claimed a mate. Took a hole to fill up, to breed Newt. His mind sank into Newt's own, the base thought to breed, to fill and create cubs overpowering Newt.

The bench groaned under the strain as the beast began to fuck Newt. His massive cock feeling like it was splitting him open. But his insides were so stretched and the friction felt amazing. Newt sobbed out, drooling running down his face at the waheela fucked him. He moved with such power, his body lunging over Newt’s smaller one. He felt tiny and delicate, at the mercy of the creature over him. His mind chanting that he had to have cubs, had to be bred. 

Gaheris licked at his face again, tongue running over Newt’s mouth, an obscene sort of kiss as Geriant pounded into Newt. The younger waheela was excited and eager, wanting his turn. The older one giving Newt short brutal thrusts, going fast and untamed, the too big cock pulsing in inside him so powerfully.

With a broken sound, Newt came.

His cock pulsing its seed as he shook apart at the seams. It was intense, everything burning far too high and the humiliation of what was happening twisting into an obscene delight as Newt revelled in it for a few amazing moments. He was being bred, taking the seed to make cubs, to make a family for them all. 

He was a bitch, a true bitch under a beast.

Newt felt when the cock locked in him, when Geriant pulled back and his body was forced to go as well, their bodies linked in an undeniable way.

Newt was knotted to a waheela.

Degraded tears soaked the blindfold as he sobbed and Gaheris nudged his face in worry. Geriant licked at his hair soothingly. Both of them expressing concern for him. Geriant's mind echoing the pulse of the knot and the pleasure he was feeling inside Newt. His poor ass was throbbing as well, the knot swelled up and filled him with more semen then his body knew what to do with.

“Oh Gods,” Percival breathed and Newt jolted as if burned, scrambling to do something and not knowing what.

He was tied to the waheela, there was nowhere to hide. Newt yanked off the blindfold and pulled at the gag, humiliated tears running down his face.

“I knew you wanted to be a bitch, I didn’t realize how much,” Percival said and Newt froze. Trembling as Percival walked around them. Gaheris greeted the man with a sniff and nudge and Geriant remained over Newt, locked into him. Percival looked stunned but not horrified, not utterly disgusted. He should have been screaming and raging but he looked transfixed.

“How does it feel? Is he knotted inside you?”

Newt swallowed, licking his lips and trying to find himself as everything in him threatened to crumble down.

“It’s…. large,” he finally whimpered, eyes closing as he felt the knot in him pulsating still, his stomach beginning to ache with how much semen was being put inside him. 

“You’ve a belly, he must be pumping so much,” Percival muttered, eyes locked on Newt and Geriant, a dark haze of lust in his gaze. Those eyes cut to Newt’s own and he stared back, quivering.

“Do you like it?”

Newt sobbed out in shame but nodded his head, clenching his body down on the massive cock inside him. It had claimed him so roughly the bestial sex had been amazing. The waheela over him felt content and affectionate, so pleased with Newt and happy he was part of their family now.

Geriant pulled off him not long after Percival came back, the knot shrinking down until he shifted and came free. The long cock dropping out of Newt and semen gushing out after it. The man checked Newt’s hole and made sure he wasn’t torn. His poor rim clenching uselessly as semen dripped steadily.

Geriant gave off a satisfied air, slumping by the door to clean his red cock. It was almost the side of Newt’s wrist and length of his forearm, so thick and long and it had been in him.

Gaheris whined out, trying to worm between Newt and Percival, lapping at Newt’s used hole and humping the air. His mind impressed his eagerness to have Newt, to make the bond with them all and try his best to breed him.

“They share everything,” Percival said, looking to Newt. He quivered, laid out on his back now, knees spread as Percival stood between them and made sure he was ok.

“Do you want me to send them out?”

Tears ran down Newt’s face and he shook his head in negative.

Gaheris was younger and more eager, fumbling to line up and whining as he desperately tried to get inside Newt. His mind was bright with over eagerness and he was determined to do well.

“He’s a virgin after all,” Percival muttered, standing aside and watching them.

Newt was still on his back, knees spread wide and around the waheela as he did his best to get into Newt.

The tip finally caught and Newt made a gutted sound as he was rammed into. His fingers clenched in fur at Gaheris fucked him with that same furious pace, led by the instinct to breed. His mind washed over Newt the same way Geriant's had. An overwhelming need to be bred and carry cubs, the pleasure there but the drive to breed so strong as well. Making everything burn more urgently.

Percival cursed softly, cupping his erection in his trousers as he watched Newt get pounded by a beast. His whole body being jerked so roughly as the waheela used him, claimed him, took sloppy seconds.

They were sloppy too. Wet sounds each time the creature thrust, Newt’s poor hole so abused and overfilled, dripping semen as he arched his back and moaned out. His cock was hard again, aching as the waheela put him in his place.

Where Newt belonged, moaning on a knot like a bitch in heat.

He came to the twisted thought, his whole body exhausted as he clenched down and just came. Everything shaking apart again, the climaxes so intense as the beast fucked him, used him as it pleased. As it's feral urges told him too. It was so big inside him, the knot swelling so it could lock into Newt and pump another load into his belly, the males trying their best to breed him.

The bench rocked a bit, a dull thump, thump, as Gaheris began to lock inside him, slowing his pace until they were tied together tightly.

“You’re a real bitch now,” Percival breathed in awe and Newt wanted to break down and cry in mortification and degradation. But his whole body was still aching so pleasurably, this terrible and wrong act feeling so amazing even without a lust potion to blame.

Newt felt far away from the world, like when he fell into being a pet for Percival. Everything seemed to float a bit.

Gaheris knotted him and it seemed too soon when he pulled away, coming free with a wet splash of semen on Newt's sticky skin. His stomach was bloated with it still. Percival was there right away, nudging his knees wide and pushing into Newt’s used body.

“Fuck, you feel so loose, they stretched your cunt so wide,” he muttered. Newt whimpered and Percival fucked him, licking at his neck as Newt just held on to him. It didn’t feel like it took long before he was coming, adding his seed into Newt’s body. The urge to breed still in his mind, the waheela leaving Newt's mind confused. He wanted to carry cubs, wanting Percival to put them in him, wanting them all to breed him. Newt was lost in the sensations and he held onto Percival, his only anchor as the waves rose around him and swallowed Newt whole.

 

Percival lovingly carried Newt to the bathtub and washed him, Newt a mess of whimpering and clinging tightly to him. Still needing the man to feel grounded. Percival whispered in his ear, about how lovely he was and how perfect he had been. That the man would keep this secret and no one else would never know what Newt had done with the waheela, what he would do again. Newt knew he would too, they had created something between them all tonight, Newt linked to Gaheris and Geraint now. Newt sobbed in shame as reality snapped at him but Percival held him through it, chasing away the demons until Newt was all cried out and utterly exhausted.

The bed was cool and everything Newt wanted, Percival curled around him snuggly as Newt was able to finally let go and his mind sagged down into the darkness.

 

“Oh my,” a woman’s voice gasped, a bit scandalized. The click of shoes announcing the arrival of guests.

“My apologies,” Percival’s charming voice said. “We are trying to breed them you see,” he explained lightly and voices murmured in agreement.

Newt glanced over, feeling far away and floating. Six people he didn’t know were watching him, coming into the observation room and sitting on the chairs set out.

“This is what I wanted to speak to you about, the waheela are on the brink of extinction, a wizarding creature about to die out while normal animals thrive. We should be ashamed of ourselves, that no maj take better care of their beasts than we do. We must preserve out magical creatures.” Percival’s voice was soothing and had a commanding touch. He would win these people over and convince them to support the new laws to protected magical creatures, to stop them from being hunted or harmed unfairly.

They weren’t the first group, nor would they be the last.

Geriant ignored them, fucking into Newt. His mind only caring for how good it felt, the tight heat around his cock. He would breed Newt, would put his cubs in his belly. Their shared mate.

Newt was down on his hands and knees under the waheela, his body being jerkily bounced with each thrust into his hole. Tears ran down his face at the glorious stretch inside him, his whole body made to open so wide for the beast to use him.

His collar was a comfort on his neck, just tight enough to remind him it was there. That when these people saw them, they saw a female waheela and not Newt himself.

They were just outside the observatory doors, in the dirt as they mated like animals, Newt a true bitch now.

Percival was trying to figure out the right spells to let him be bred, to make Newt actually carry cubs. It was an overwhelming thought but when Newt was on the knot he knew he wanted it. Wanted his stomach to round out with life like no man’s could without magic. It was so recklessly wicked and sinful, to think of it. But when he was clear-headed, Newt couldn’t deny he might save the waheela race. If he could carry enough cubs, they could breed together. Percival’s books had made it clear that any incest consequences would be fixed through their magic.

Newt could save the entire species.

Both his mates were determined to breed him and some base thing in Newt had bloomed as well. He wanted to be bred, wanted to carry cubs for them.

He whimpered out as the knot began to fill inside him, the creature on his back panting out as it gave short little lunges that made Newt’s body thrust back and forth.

One of the women was watching still, her gaze locked on them as Newt took a knot deep inside and came apart on the burn of it. Cock spilling as he gasped softly. Geriant's mind washing over him, pulsing with the hungry need to fill Newt to the very brim. He couldn't help but agree, their minds blending in a simple need to breed and be bred.

Newt had begun with such good intentions.

Had never realized what was happening.

It was only when Newt was addicted to being knotted that it occurred to him.

The breeding bench was too low for Percival to fuck him without bending down.

It was the perfect height for the waheela.

Good intentions against wicked ones, Newt thought dazedly, looking at Percival and watching him smirk back, too far gone to ever hope to escape.

Too far gone to even want too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival pov now.

 

Percival had always known his was the harder sort of life.

“You must be strong, weak die, only the strong will live,” his mother had told him often as he grew up, pressing kisses to his head. Percival’s brothers were different and frail, not as powerful as he had been born and it would be his place to protect them she taught him. His magic was the strongest of his family, some of the strongest ever. He would be the one to protect them from the people that would harm them, to uphold the Graves name.

“Family is everything,” mother would say to him, clutching his hand and leading him down the halls of the manor to look at the portraits of his family and ancestors. Her voice always so soft and kind. She expected more of him than his brothers but still loved him just as deeply. She still adored him openly and Percival knew he was adored even if he needed to be more.  

“A united family can endure, a divided one will fail and wither away. What are you Percival?”

He looked up at the picture his father, eyes strong and stern. Mother mourned for him still, killed when Percival was too young to recall him.

“I am the connection,” he repeated the words easily, taught them since he was born.

“You are the connection in our family, joining us all together. We are all links in the chain but you must be the strongest so we may hold no matter what pulls us.”

 

Percival grew to be resilient, his mother pushed him relentlessly and Percival, in turn, pushed himself just as hard. He had no time for play, always studying magic and working to achieve more. To master his gifts and turn them into a tool he could use to help. He excelled as a wizard and only wanted to be able to do even better. With each success, he turned his attention to the next goal, endlessly climbing higher.

When he began his schooling he was ahead of the other children and Percival never let the gap close, always studying and focusing. He thought of his mother and brothers and his love for them gave him the drive he needed. He wasn’t like the other children, he was going to be more.

Much more, a great man.

Someone to make history.

When he was a teenager, his mother began to properly teach him more about social power, about knowing the right people and what it could grant him. She shook hands and smiled at politicians and people of great wealth, taught Percival to do the same. They would attend formal parties that went on for hours while his brothers got to stay home with the house elves and have fun. But Percival never resented that. This was his place.

Born for this, the first born son, the strongest magic.

He could do this, could protect his family in his father’s place. He could fulfil the role so his mother’s smile would be less brittle and she wouldn’t stay up so late worrying. Fearing who come for them if they slipped up, if anyone saw them for what the were. They had to be hidden, tucked away safe and sound.

 

When he decided to be an auror his mother was so proud she cried. Holding him close like he was a young boy instead of a young man, she smiled so warmly. Her joy was all Percival really wanted, their family was safe and he would keep them so. He wanted his mother to know that. The burdens she had carried alone for so long would be shared now.

No one was going to come and get them in the night.

They would be safe.  

“My darling son,” she told him, cupping his face and kissing his cheek lovingly. “I know that it’s not easy for you, to have to carry this family so young. But you’ve done so well, I love you so much,” she said softly, pulling him into a hug and Percival returned it tightly. His mother smelt like home, like warmth and safety. She had always pushed him hard but adored him just as much.   

More than honour or his own gain, his mother’s happiness pushed him.

He worked hard.

Stayed late many nights and on others he went to events he didn’t want to be at and made friends with important people he didn’t like. He strove for success and accepted nothing less, forcing himself to be better each time.  

He upheld the Graves name and honoured his father as head of the family.  

 

Percival mourned for his mother many years after she left him, but he took a deep comfort that she had died peacefully. She has passed on certain that he would protect his family. Her last years spent contently around the manor, growing plants and raising pets happily. She had never remarried and never wished too, her life dedicated to her children. But she never seemed lesser for it. Smiling in the sunlight of the observatory and watching the forest.

She had been happy.

Percival would remember her that way always and would take care of his brothers just as fierce and lovingly as she had.  

Nothing would harm his family.

 

For years and years, he worked to be strong, to be the strongest.

So it infuriated him that Grindelwald seemed so easily stronger than his lifetime of hard work.

That he was able to overtake Percival in a fight like it was nothing. They fought long and fierce but in the end, the dark wizard was quicker. When he lost the duel and his wand was snatched, Percival attacked the man outright. Fists and teeth bared like a beast as he lunged at him. Grindelwald had startled, jerking away in shock but Percival caught him and landed vicious blows. His little minions had come to his rescue, stopping Percival just short of ripping the dark wizard’s throat out with his teeth.

“Such savagery,” the dark wizard mocked him and Percival snarled in reply. Staring at the man, silently promising to himself that if he lived he would kill him. He thought of the Waheela then, of his family’s bond to them and their relentless strength. They were hunters at their core and Percival was as well.  

 

He was locked away like a dog. Shoved into a tiny dark space and unable to get out. His house wards were his only comfort. There was no way Grindelwald could fool them, could get into his home. His family was safe at least. He thought of his mother, her content smile as she looked at him, clutching his hand and telling him she loved him so much.

Percival thought of her for hours and hours in the darkness. It was all the kept him sane at times. His mother’s smile and scent, her warm soothing touch.

She had wanted him to marry.

He recalled happier days when they would sit and talk for hours, going back and forth. He trusted no one as deeply as he trusted his mother, there was nothing about him she did not know.

“Find a nice mate dear, someone to suit you. I never realized how whole I could feel, until I had your father at my side. Even if only we together for a short time, I’ve never regretted it.”

“I’ve been looking, checking around to try and find someone,” he insisted. It wasn’t a lie either, but he hadn’t truly given it all his attention, his career and family taking priority. Being strong had been all that mattered for so long it was hard to think of little else.

“Children are important dear, a nice little family of your own, sons and daughters to raise up. I stand in place of a mate for you in many ways and I worry, you should be bonding with a mate, not minding an ageing mother.”

“One day,” he promised her. “I’d much rather be with you than anyone else.”

“That’s the worrying thing,” she teased lightly. “You must learn to trust someone one day. A fellow magizoologist would be nice. I would love to have someone to chat with about my work.”

Percival looked at his mother, reading her gentle face. They were in the observatory, soaking up the sun and she suddenly seemed so aged. His heart thumped with a fear of losing her. Of all the things she had given up for him and his brothers. He swallowed and felt his eyes threaten to water with such a great swell of love he had for his mother.

“Do you miss it? Working in your field?”

“A bit, I don’t have any remorse about retiring, but sometimes I miss researching.”

“Your books could be legendary,” he told her, wishing she would publish just one of them.

“Perhaps, but it’s safer to keep the books in the family. The Waheela deserve to live on and the more people know about them, the more they’ll use to hurt them. Such savage creatures, we humans can be.”

Percival couldn’t argue.

 

When he was found after Grindelwald was defeated, starved and dehydrated, nearly dead, he couldn’t stop thinking of that conversation. He rested in a lush bed in the healing ward in New York and thought of his mother and his family. He had promised her to try, to build his own lineage, to make a future for the Graves name.

Percival’s mind wasn’t focused on his career and power for once. Instead it circled back over the idea of marrying.

“-A magizoologist, of all things,” Seraphina was visiting and talking to him, updating Percival on what he had missed since his embarrassing kidnapping.

“A magizoologist,” he repeated without thinking and she paused to peer at him before nodding.

“Newton Scamander. He’s more of a reckless mess than a formal researcher. He treats his beasts like dear friends, Goldstein said he talked with them often, like they understood.”

“An odd one then,” he replied to put her at ease and it worked. The conversation moved on but Percival didn’t forget it.

A magizoologist.

 

The moment he was back at work, he pulled the files on Newton Scamander, staring at the beautiful man in the photo. Those eyes seeming so shy as they looked away but when they glanced over there was such a sharpness to them. A predator wrapped in a prey outfit. Someone who didn’t bother with showing off but when pushed would defend.

Percival read the files of the Grindelwald event, of Newton ‘Newt’ Scamander. He had come to America to free a creature, had lost some of his beasts and worked to find them and return them to safety. He escaped the heart of MACUSA and when pushed, had defeated Grindelwald himself with his cunning rather than blunt power.

Where Percival himself had failed, Newt has succeeded.

Percival could almost feel his mother over his shoulder, nodding her head in approval.  

Newton Scamander shifting nervously in his mugshot, looking so utterly perfect.

 

It took time and work to arrange for Newt to visit New York again. He gave Tina time off and cleared the travel ban on wizards coming to the city. To stir the waters a bit, Percival made it known he had purchased the last pair of Waheela in known existence.

It was a lie of course, but no one who knew that would contest it. It was better that the Waheela be thought gone, safer for them. They had always been hunted and the only way to make it stop was to make people believe they were gone.  

Still, the mention of the rare creatures had lured his mother to meet his father and Percival was sure it could do the same for him if Newt was the right one.

It was hard not to smile when his prey came around, asking questions.

 

It was adorable really, this young man who was so ready to defend creatures he hadn’t even seen. Newt was obviously concerned that Percival was mistreating his Waheela in some way. It was easy to use that, to coax the man to come to his home and meet them himself.

Percival had books on how to lure the perfect mate, to ease them into his hectic life. His ancestors offering helpful thoughts and their own experiences in detailed journals. How they had met and wooed their brides.

Newt was like a caged predator, pacing and ready to spring away at moment’s notice. Mistrustful and wary of Percival. It took hours to win him over, to sweet-talk and ease Newt into a sense of calm and safety.

They talked for hours about magical creatures, the man’s eyes lighting up. It reminded Percival of his mother so much his heart ached a bit. He fetched her journals and offered them to the eager man. He took them with care, as if he knew how precious they were.

He was shy but clever, making witty comments and sly jokes. Percival liked that immediately, that he wasn’t a timid bunny through and through. It was easy to forget that this very man had defeated Grindelwald, had fought him and won. Percival had fought and lost, this man had proved himself better.

He was a worthy companion in that sense.

The way he held Percival’s mother’s books and the awe in his eyes when he met the Waheela for the first time endeared him to Percival on a personal level.

So he fixed them a mild lust potion and took Newt to his bed. The truth serum mixed in made the man honest, made him confess that he liked rough sex. Percival ran his nails up the pale back and Newt trembled and reeked of excitement. He sank his teeth in harder than normal and the man moaned so loudly. They were almost feral, Percival near growling as he fucked the man, pumped into his arse and held his hair in a harsh grip.  

Newt came hard for him and slumped into the bed after, the potion making him tired now, lulling him to sleep.

Percival took his time, exploring the sleeping man, fingers touching every inch of him. He pressed his nose into Newt’s neck and scented him. Licked at the spot and sucked a nice dark mark there. He gathered Newt close and hugged him tightly, naked bodies pressed together to transfer their scents. It would help make Newt more calmer around him, to have Percival’s scent clinging to him.

He counted the scars on the beautiful man and his admiration only grew. Long claw marks, bites and scratches, so many injuries clearly from creatures and the man still loved them so dearly.

Not a weak-willed sort at all.

His love was lasting and enduring.

He could be a perfect mate for Percival, a little husband he could keep and truly adore. Percival spent most of the night tracing the scars with his tongue, exploring Newt’s body as deeply as he could while the man slept on.

 

Gaheris and Geriant liked Newt. They took to him well and were eager to know more about him. Newt, in turn, was the same, enthusiastic to learn and happy to be with them. He wasn’t afraid of the large predators but he also wasn’t foolish around them either. Walking that fine line and Percival had never imagined he would find someone so flawless.

It wasn’t without its challenges of course, nothing was that easy.  

Geriant would touch minds with Newt and then share what he learned with Percival later on. Newt shied from commitment, anxious and skittish with the idea of it. The man was nervous and fleeting by choice but also lonely, longing for love without seeming to realize it. His fear of being hurt and the need to guard his heart was only hurting him more.  

So Percival learned all he could of rough sex, of bondage and sexual pain. He pretended as if he knew everything about it was well practised. Each night he studied Newt’s body and how to make him feel good. Start with the base things like sex and work your way up if their skittish, he had read in the journals to find a good wife. Make them feel safe and make them crave more. Percival let the feral thing inside him out more, just little peeks and Newt revelled in it, eager for more. It suited so well, Percival wished his mother could have lived to see how fine a mate he had found. She’d have adored Newt.

 

When Newt left for Mexico and it was hard not to follow him, not to cage him. But a creature caged would never be happy, never want to stay. So Percival let him go and waited with more anxiousness then he wanted to admit. Newt was just such a good fit for him, such a perfect mate. Percival could have it all, a pretty husband and a family, children to raise with the same love his mother had. Percival had lost his father young but his children wouldn’t, they would know him. Percival would protect them and his eldest wouldn’t have to be the head of the family before he was five. He could be a child.

Newt returned as Percival had hoped. Shy as he dropped in for a visit at Percival’s office. He wrote a quick message to cancel his next meeting and proceeded to fuck Newt over his desk. Newt was face down, Percival’s head pressed to his shoulders to hide his expression. He pounded the man relentlessly, angry that he reeked of another man.  

Percival wanted to bite Newt, to mark him up, to grab his neck and sink his teeth in.

He made himself hold back, hands harsh but not cruel.

He had to be patient and persistent.

Jealousy would not win him anything so he made light of it, like it didn’t infuriate him that another had touched his mate.

 

It took months to entice Newt properly, to burrow into his heart deep enough that the man would never get him out. Percival worked hard to be the steady but casual lover, at ease with Newt always leaving, sure he would return. It was worth it as well; Percival wasn’t just doing this for a mate. He genuinely liked Newt, adored him and could easily love him. Percival knew it was dangerous, that he had always guarded his heart against others. There had been lovers but never like this, he had never thought to one day trust them, to keep them at his side. It was precarious and could turn into a disaster so quickly but Newt felt worth that risk. Percival’s heart was strong and sure but innocent to love, he didn’t know how to hold back and he knew it. He adored Newt deeply already, near obsessed with him. Percival just had to have him.    

They could be so right together.  

 

Percival planned it all with painstaking care. His work suffered for it even, his mind always pulled away, thinking of Newt and all that had to happen in order for them to marry and be happy.  

The first Waheela mating was critical.

He left Newt tied up, a lust potion muddling his mind. Strapped down and desperate for release. Gaheris and Geriant arrived quickly, Percival had been fucking Newt in the dirt of the forest and the observatory for weeks, both Waheela watching keenly. They knew the game already and had both approved of Newt.  

Now they scented the man’s bare body, inspected him as Newt whimpered out.

Percival leaned against the door silently watching. Newt thought he was gone as he watched, his pretty mate blindfolded so Percival could observe the first mating. He couldn’t not be there for it, unable to not have every aspect of Newt he possibly could.  

Newt struggled when the beasts began licking him. Geriant as his arse and Gaheris at his face, both creatures working him up even more. The lust potion has been extra potent, just enough so Newt’s mind wasn’t able to focus enough to undo the bindings right away.

Percival watched closely.

This was a vital moment.

Waheela would not mate with an unwilling partner. If Newt truly didn’t want them, they would be able to sense it and stop. The lust potion could take away his inhibitions, but it wouldn’t create a hunger that wasn’t there already. If Newt didn’t want Geriant and Gaheris, Percival would have to find another.

It was a bit surprising to realize how much he cared for the man, heart in his throat and worry gnawing at him. He couldn’t imagine anyone else now. It had to be Newt.

It just had to be.  

It felt like such a great victory when Geriant mounted Newt, moving to take him. Percival grinned and wanted to laugh out loud in relief. Newt had to be responding to them, wanting it. He watched as Newt freed himself but didn’t stop the beast over him. Fingers trembling and sinking into fur but not pushing him away.

Percival scrutinized the waheela sink into his pretty mate, looking to make sure Newt’s body could handle the thick length. Newt whimpering so prettily and looking so tiny under the beast. His breath hitching as the beast’s cock sank into his hole. He looked glorious, biting down on his gag as he was stretched to his limits. Gaheris was pacing and watching, eager for his turn as Geriant enjoyed the feeling of his first cunt.

The bitch they would all share. Their little pack mate.

Percival would breed him first of course. Have Newt pregnant and delivering his young. Then Geriant and eventually Gaheris. Newt had no idea he had just locked himself into his fate of their love and broodmare. That in accepting the beast over him he had consented to a life of pregnancy and breeding.

Percival’s cock ached at the idea of it. That base thing in his mind hungry to breed, to sire young.  

He watched the waheela fuck Newt good and hard, dominating him. Newt’s hands clutched the breeding bench tightly but it was clear he was enjoying it. He moaned so hard through his gag, head thrown back as Geriant slammed into him over and over. Nice wet sounds as Newt gurgled on his own spit.

Percival watched Newt take his first knot. Coming as he was filled in a way he had never known before. He slumped on the bench, panting for air and Percival stood up straight, ready to play his part.

Newt startled badly to find Percival watching him, so humiliated but trapped on a knot. He shook so hard as Percival coaxed him carefully.

“Such a fine bitch,” he breathed, watching Newt cry but begin to calm when he realized Percival wasn’t angry or disgusted. Percival made him admit he liked it and then to properly ruin Newt, he had him take Gaheris as well.

Newt cried softly but let it happen, losing himself in the sensations.

His cunt was so sloppy, wet sounds with each lunge of the waheela on him. Percival smirked at the sound, thinking of all the come being poured into his mate.

He praised Newt for it, told him how good it felt as he took the last go on him. Fucking what he had went out and caught for them, a pretty bitch to serve as their mate. His mate, his gorgeous Newt sobbing so sweetly and feeling so perfect as Percival came inside him. Three loads buried in him now, thick seed running down his quivering thighs.

Perfection.

Percival took care to shower Newt in affection afterwards. Lovingly bathing him and kissing his skin reverently. He made sure Newt felt protected and safe, warm and relaxed. Curled him up in his bed and pressed himself close. His heart so happy with this precious mate. Percival let that show finally, let Newt see that he was loved deeply. Percival would never leave him, never give him up. Newt was safe with him and everything he ever dreamed of Percival would give him. He swore it softly, whispered it against Newt’s neck, mouthing at his skin worshipfully. His mate was so dazed and pliant, broken down and torn open and now Percival poured himself in. Filled Newt’s tender heart up with himself so that he might be as consumed with Percival as he was with his dear Newt.   

 

The man slept easily after such wild sex, body and emotions so worn out. Percival laid awake most of the night, marvelling over Newt and planning their future together. Everything he wanted could be his if he was careful. If he stayed focused and worked hard, he could have the dreams emerging in his mind.

 

The next day he made sure to establish a routine.

He laced Newt’s morning tea with a mild lust potion, not enough to control but enough to excite him. They ate in the observatory and Geriant and Gaheris came to see them. Newt shied away for a moment, humiliated and hesitant but Geriant refused to let him. He plopped his head in Newt’s lap and whined for attention. It broke the man easily and he pet the beast.

“They’ve accepted you as part of the pack,” Percival mused. “They must think you are a mate, a shared mate.”

Newt squirmed and Percival leaned close, their chairs pressed together. He put an arm around Newt’s shoulders and kissed his neck lightly as the man squirmed. Geriant nosed at his thighs, pushing them apart to stick his head in between.

Newt whimpered so prettily.

Percival pulled him from his chair into his lap. Sitting Newt on his thighs, facing away from him. Percival bit at his neck as he undid Newt’s belt. His trembling hands held Percival’s wrists but didn’t stop him.

“He wants to groom you,” he rumbled in his ear. Sliding Newt’s pants down and spreading his thighs. Newt’s eyes were closed and his breath broken little sobs as Geriant quickly went to work. He licked over Newt’s hole, tongue stoking as he cleaned the slow seep of come.

“You’re a Waheela bitch now, our pretty mate. They’ll want you often.” Percival explained as Geraint’s long tongue worked. Newt was crying softly now but he hadn’t closed his legs.

“Will you let them?”

Trembling, Newt nodded and Percival grinned against his neck, feeling like a predator with his teeth around his prey’s throat.

Newt looked so fine, stretched out on the table, bend over on his stomach as Geriant mounted him. The table wasn’t the perfect height but it was reinforced to take the weight. Newt gasping as he was jerked forward, the plates and cups clinking rhythmically.

Percival picked up his coffee and drank, watching Newt as the man stared at him, crying so gorgeously as a waheela fucked him.  

They knotted and once they parted, Gaheris was right there for his turn. Newt laid out on his back for him, whimpering so breathlessly as the creature had him. Gaheris’ front paws on the table, his head bowed down to lick Newt’s face. Newt’s arse was up high and his legs wrapped around the beast’s middle to hold himself up.

Gorgeous.

Percival watched Newt sink down into a new mindset a bit more, slowly losing his shame. Gaheris licked at his face and he parted his lips bit by bit. Until the beast was dipping his tongue in, Newt kissing back sloppily. His hands carded through the beast’s fur and he gave in another inch as Percival watched.

Once they were done, Percival took him again. He fucked slow and gentle in contrast to the rough matings, soothing Newt’s shame with loving words and praises. Poor thing was so confused and Percival was right there to guide him, digging claws in deeper and pulling Newt down more and more.

Until he was far too gone to even fight.   

Percival listened to the wet slaps as he lunged into the man, he was so overused, seeping come. Percival loved the feeling of it, sloppy sex. Knowing Newt was brimming with seed and primed to take more. The idea of it so wonderful to the primal urge in Percival.

He came pressing loving kisses to Newt’s mouth, muttering his adoration as he added his seed.

Once he was finished he made sure to get Newt off one last time before he fed Newt potions for the soreness and tucked him into bed for an afternoon nap. Newt was barely awake as Percival lazy fucked his sloppy hole a second time, watching the waheela seed coat his cock and run down Newt’s pretty pale skin and onto the sheets. Newt blinking sleepily, not completely aware as Percival rocked into him lovingly.

“My darling, my mate,” he worshiped and Newt whimpered softly in answer.  

Percival took care to ease Newt into his new life but also pull him deep, to get him used to letting the waheela have him. Until he didn’t need lust potions anymore. Newt would go down on his knees without thought when they nudged at him. Undoing his pants and telling them to be patient as he got himself ready. Trained so perfectly.

 

Travelling slowly became less important to Newt. Percival worked hard to help make sure that the Graves manor was home to Newt. That Britain was far away and not as welcoming as the very place he was already. Newt began to put off travelling for a few months and it slowly grew until he stopped talking of leaving at all. When his work required him to travel, creatures to return home, Percival found a reason to go with him.  

Percival helped him mind his creatures in his suitcase and assisted when they could be released into the wild. Weekend trips they went on together. He brought more creatures to Newt to keep him busy, injured and desperate for help.

He gave Newt his mother’s old workroom.  

“It’s amazing,” Newt breathed when Percival showed him. Rows of long tables and long halls of comfortable and spacious enclosures. It was more like a stable than a single room, made to hold many creatures without being cruel. Medical equipment and research paraphernalia as well, everything a magizoologist could ever want.

Newt ran his fingers along the table, noting the dust.

“Why do you have this room? If I may ask?”

Percival looked around, the skylights letting in bright sunlight and making the room warm rather than cold like a healer’s ward. The tables were wood and plants grew wild everywhere, watered even when everything else was left untouched by Percival’s command.

He stared at the small little seat in the corner, made for a child. Percival had spent years on it, watching his mother work.

“My mother was a magizoologist,” Percival explained quietly. “You’ve been reading her journals on the waheela.”

Newt made a soft sound, peering around the room again with more accessing eyes. Finding the little stool as well.

“Are you sure you want me in here?”

Percival nodded.

“She would be so mad, that its sat untouched for so long.”

He drifted closer to Newt and he let him, watching Percival as he dropped a kiss to his shoulder.

“She would have loved you so much,” he explained. “She thought the same as you, that magical creatures were wonderful and meant to be cherished and cared for.”

Percival tugged an old journal from the shelf with care, wiping off the dust as he opened it to the first page he had memorized.

“It is my hope to educate the world, that they might learn that magical creatures should be treated as our equals and adored just as much as family.”

“That’s lovely,” Newt said, watching Percival with a soft gaze as he closed the book and handed it to him.

“She was scorned for it and never published her books, all this research gone to waste. Perhaps you might find use of it?”

Newt nodded, accepting the book with infinite care.

 

Things went smoothly from there, Newt playing the bitch often for Geriant and Gaheris as well as still letting Percival have him. He bought expensive plugs and put them inside his precious mate, keeping him filled. Getting Newt used to the weight of the seed deep inside him.

Percival adored Newt and wanted to show him off more. But the man didn’t like crowds and had no taste for high society events. Percival had never wanted to show off more in his life and his mate didn’t want to. Such a shame. Newt was gorgeous and deserved to be admired, to have people remark how wonderful he was.

It seeped into Percival’s mind, hunger and lust muddling him up.

So he began bringing people to the manor. Wealthy families that donated great sums to Newt’s work with a bit of sweet talking, mainly for the favour of the Graves family. Newt was both delighted and disgusted. Eager for the money to help creatures but despising having to make small talk with the people who truly didn’t care for hours on end. Newt felt territorial of the manor and never liked people visiting. He never said so but Percival could see it, see how railed Newt was under his meek demeanour. Still, it paled when compared with how much Newt disliked standing around talking with strangers about nothing.

 

“I’ve an idea,” Percival offered him one night.

Newt was exhausted once their guests leave, three hours of smiling politely and listening to endless stories. Made to reflect their wealth and status more than having any point. Newt hummed lightly in reply, distracted and eager to crawl into bed no doubt.

It truly drained him to make nice with groups of people, crowds had a stronger effect, wearing him out twice as fast. Percival was sympathetic, he’d never liked it either, feeling so many eyes on him. But he’d been trained since he was a boy to handle it, to take their gazes and make them see what he wanted.

“What sort of idea?” Newt asked, following Percival as he led him to the bedroom, magic pulling Newts proper clothing off him. His tie unwinding and the snug collar buttons undoing themselves. Slowly Newt was willing stripped down and he sighed out when he heard the splash of the tub being filled.

“A collar I think,” Percival mused, as if he hadn’t been planning it for weeks now. “Something to hide you away when guests visit.”

“Why can’t I just hide away?”

“Because you know better than I do, if they’re the right sort of people. If they know what they're talking about or if their lying. You should be a part of this as we begin to work towards the larger project. You still want to build a sanctuary, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Newt replied, the bathroom doors open and inviting the hot tub looking decadent as Percival used his bare hands to finish undressing a plaint Newt.

“You’ll need to personally approve each person we hire on. But I thought perhaps we might play a bit of a game.”

“Your games usually end up with me crying,” Newt mused, his tone more teasing than worried.

“You also get off rather spectacularly.”

Newt hummed in lazy agreement, Percival guiding him to take the step over the edge of the tub and then sink into the water. Percival remained dressed, intending to leave Newt in a bit so he could rest and recharge on his own. Some private time to unwind in a way he couldn’t if Percival remained.

“I wanted to put you in a collar, one that made you look like a beast. So you could laze at my feet while guest visited,” Percival confessed, whispering it into Newt’s ear sensuously, hands caressing his neck as Newt shivered and sank into the water.

“Percival,” he admonished but there was lust in his eyes, hunger in his scent.

“Just consider it, I’d like the challenge of building such a magical device,” he admitted. Dropping a kiss to Newt’s curls before he rose up and left the room. As he went, the house elf delivered a fresh plate of finger foods to fill Newt up. Freshwater in a tall glass with just a hint of potion to help him relax and unwind.

Newt had to know by now that Percival laced his drinks sometimes. He’d never brought it up but when Percival handed him something, his eyes seemed to know.

He drank it every time.

Trusting that whatever Percival was giving him wasn’t dangerous, that he was still safe.

He trusted him.  

So Percival, of course, abused it, fed him pepper up potions and health droughts, minded his mate in ways Newt sometimes forgot too. Sometimes he gave him things to relax more and potions to sleep deeper. Newt was far too clever to not know, seeming aware of how pleased Percival was every time he accepted steaming cups of tea without comment.

His perfect mate, letting Percival pamper him.  

 

It took him a few months of teasing and mentioning it during sex, but before long he had Newt agreeing to wear the collar. The first few times were careful, ensuring the spells were working correctly and people saw Newt as a large dog rather than a human laid out on the rug like a pet.

Once Percival was sure it was working well, he couldn’t help but show off. He coaxed Newt naked and made him into a show dog, a rare breed that made rich people comment on.

“I hadn’t known you could purchase them in America,” they would say as they looked at Newt admiringly. He was always so red when they looked, squirming on the rug as eyes fell on him.

“My pet cost a great deal and was worth every penny.”

“Well, if you breed her, do tell me, I’d love a pup.”

Percival just hummed non-committedly, eyes falling on Newt with a hunger to see him round with new life.

 

Before long the waheela got involved. Gaheris and Geraint eager for the game as well. Willing to let people see them if it meant they could claim Newt. At first Newt just laid out with them in the sunlight lazily, looking like one of them, a gorgeous female waheela that Percival had managed to find. Soon both Gaheris and Geraint pushed for a bit more. Nudging and licking at Newt when people were there watching. Grooming him lovingly and nuzzling at his bare skin.

They were a devious sort, able to make casual affection feel sensual and making Newt shiver and bite his lip.  

He’d flush so perfectly, humiliated as they teased and excited him. They primed him to be fucked all while Percival chatted with people a handful of yards away.

“Oh, have they mated yet?” Mrs. Nathanael asked, peering at Newt at Gaheris licked at his pale thighs. Newt was burning red and trying to subtly escape the attention. The waheela was having none of it, pulling him close with a gentle paw so he could lap at Newt’s pretty rump.

“A few times,” Percival replied calmly. “The female’s a bit shy yet, she doesn’t always accept them.”

“Poor things, they must be eager for her,” Mrs. Nathanael mused, watching Gaheris nudge more intently, trying to get Newt up to be mounted. Percival watched him, seeing how Newt struggled, eyes darting to him. Percival crossed his legs causally to hide any show of his sexual excitement but Newt caught the gesture for what it was. He looked so fine as he let Gaheris push him up to his hands and knees finally. He was humiliated and trembling but also hanging hard and eager.

Mrs. Nathanael watched with a little too much interest, eyes reflecting a bit of sin. Newt whined out when he was penetrated. Gasping and jerking as he was forced open on the creature’s cock.

“Oh my,” Mr. Nathanael muttered, making his wife startle a bit and fluster. They talked of city gossip while Newt was fucked and knotted. The glass of the observatory the only thing between them. The wealthy woman talked easily but her gaze wandered back to Newt many times.

She would visit often in the future and be one of the largest contributors to the Graves magical creature sanctuary.  

Of course, once Geheris was done, Geriant was right there wanting a turn on him as well.

Percival had to mutter a low curse on himself to make his body go soft. His body too used to being the third one to fuck Newt. It was hard to fight that possessive urge now, people to charm while his mate was right there, dripping and eager, looking at Percival as if he knew exactly what he was thinking.

The tease.

“I do hope she takes, they’d have lovely little ones,” Mrs. Nathanael commented and Percival agreed, watching Newt flush deeply at the idea of it.

Plenty of people have remarked on it, that Newt would do well to be bred and that they hoped ‘she’ would have many pups. It was easy to encourage the idea of it, to fill Newt’s head with thoughts of pups in his belly.

They decide together to begin to try and breeding Newt.

There are potions and spells for men to carry children, ways to make newborns with powerful and ancient magic. But to create waheela pups will be harder Percival explained to Newt. It’ll take time and care to alter Newt in order to carry healthy pups. Newt doesn’t argue the logic and takes the potions Percival gives him. He reads Percival’s mother journals and by this point the man has to know something more is going on. But Newt plays along and takes what Percival gives him. Keeping records of everything just as Percival’s mother had.  

It’s underhanded, what he’s doing. But Percival knows Newt will like it in the end. He’s so adoring and admiring of his creatures. Of course, he would like to be a bit more like them.

The potion was a very old and a long-guarded secret. The Graves had developed it painstakingly and passed it down from generation to generation. Percival’s mother had drunk it and now so did Newt.

It would let him carry the pups, let his male body be bred like a female. But it would be a bit more. A slight change to help ensure Newt would never leave. It would make him a touch of a waheela himself. To draw out what was already there. Percival could smell it on him now. Newt had always been very alluring and Percival was willing to bet that somewhere in his bloodline, Newt had a...unique ancestor.

Percival watched for the right signs for months.

The first one showed in a surprising way.

Newt growled at him.

Laid out in bed one sunny morning he was tired from a long night of getting fucked and content like a cat curled around a fluffy pillow. They had to wake and leave for the city however, to attend a meeting about the concept of building a magical creature sanctuary that was legal and met all laws in place in America. There were hours of listening to people complain and then bribing enough of the vote to win the approval. Newt was utterly bored with them, knowing Percival was buying the vote so there was no pointing working hard to convince anyone.

“Come on love,” Percival coaxed gently, kissing his hair and shaking Newt’s shoulder to wake him up proper.

Newt’s lip curled in an almost smile and it caught Percival utterly off guard when it turned into a soft snarl. A low throaty growl.

One of Newt’s eyes slid open a bit, gaze sharp and focused as he glared. It wasn’t a human gaze, something about it downright feral.

Percival’s cock twitched as Newt pulled away and rolled onto his belly, falling back into a deeper sleep.

Percival left him be.

He attended the meeting alone and claimed Newt was out ill suddenly.

It was hard to focus, excitement coursing through Percival.

Newt was taking to the potion.

He was changing.

He would be able to breed and more importantly, bond.

A true mate bond.

It was time then.

“I’ve been meaning to give this to you,” Percival offered up, holding out a worn little book to Newt that same evening. They were settled in the observatory reading together. Newt looked up from his book to blink. He reached out and accepted the book a moment after, his curiosity peaking.

“Oh, I had wondered, I noticed a time gap,” Newt commented lightly, looking at the first page. It was one of his mother’s journals, the one that contained her discovery of the Graves family secret.

“It's about how she met my father and such, very personal.”

Newt nodded his head. “Yes, she had just been heading out for field research and then the journals skipped to her being happily married, I suspected one was missing.”

“My father chose her, and with that, he gave her a great secret. One that has enough power to potentially destroy the Graves.”

Newt looked up, eyes inquisitive. “How very dramatic.”

“Very,” Percival agreed, liking Newt’s humour.

Percival reached out and took his hand, pressing a kiss to Newt’s palm with adoration.

“Now I give it to you, to do with as you would please.”

“I...thank you,” Newt finally replied, looking a bit unsure but also clutching the book close.

Percival smiled warmly and then went back to his own book, keeping hold of Newt’s hand, fingers tangled.

 

It was hard not to push but Percival made himself wait. He threw himself into work and focused like he used to, before finding a mate took over. People had noticed his lacklustre and commented on it already. But Percival didn’t care much about their thoughts. He still did his job well and excelled. Others thought it was his time imprisoned that affected him and Percival made no effort to change that opinion. Let them think him weak for that reason and leave him be.  

No one knew Newt was staying with him either. He came and went so often before and when he began to settle he hesitated to admit he was staying with Percival. Perhaps a bit of fear for preferring the same sex. While it wasn’t illegal like the no maj, it wasn’t applauded either. Percival had never shared his personal life and so never dealt with such things. Either way, it worked in his favour that no one knew Newt was with him, it was easier to coax him to stay in bed more often. Most thought he was making visits to the city to help with the sanctuary and then leaving. That he had a place of his own somewhere in New York. Percival wasn’t sure what he told Tina but he must have said something. If Queenie ever worried over Newt’s newfound occlumency she never commented. Newt was eager to keep his secrets the more depraved their sex life became.

It all worked so perfectly.

Fate favouring Percival it felt like.

 

Newt grew distant, nervous and on edge. He had read the journal then and knew the secrets of the family and the waheela. He seemed unsure, on the edge of fleeing but not yet in that state.

Often he would peer at Percival and try to see more, to look under his very skin and into the heart of him. Newt wasn’t sure, didn’t know if he believed or not it seemed.

“There will be a harvest moon soon,” Percival commented one night when they were sitting together. Newt not quite touching him even as Geriant had his big lug of a head in his lap and was being petted freely. The waheela apparently not being kept at arm's length like Percival now was.

He tried not to feel jealous.

“Is there?” Newt’s reply was a touch high, nervous.

“Two weeks from now,” Percival explained calmly, focusing on his book. “If you wanted to know for certain that is.”

Newt made a quiet sound of reply, stroking Geraint's head carefully.

“P-Perhaps.”

“If not it can wait,” Percival added. “Nothing needs to be rushed.”

“...And if I wish to leave?” Newt asked after a moment and Percival fought down the possessive thing inside him. Newt would never leave him. But to say that would surely make him flee.

“Then the memory would stay, you must understand.”

Newt frowned down at the waheela but didn’t protest. He did understand enough about human nature to know that a secret such as this needed to be kept so. Percival fought his own frown for how Geriant was allowed to touch Newt still, the beast seeming content. Newt was quick to judge Percival and so willing to forgive beasts.

But perhaps he could use that to his advantage.

Newt’s open affection for all things feral.

 

The fall equinox came quickly and the harvest moon with it and while Newt was clearly unsure, Percival pressed on for the both of them. If they were to become proper mates, Newt needed to accept Percival properly. While he was skittish once more, it was also clear the Newt was deeply fascinated, such a bottomless curiosity to him. Percival just needed to shape it properly.

“I’ve never read my mother’s journals entirely,” Percival admitted one calm night, the sun down and moon high. Despite the strain between them, Newt still sat with him each evening, often working on his notes or reading.

“She used to tell me the stories rather than have me read them.”

“They’re very informative, she was a gifted writer,” Newt offered. “Her research has been boundless as well,” he added and then began chattering about what he had read about magizoology. Newt could talk about the subject for hours and Percival never minded. The man opened up when he spoke about what he was passionate about, eyes lighting. Percival liked to just watch him, listening to his voice washing over him.

“....But I do admit, she was...vague about your father and what happened between them.”

Percival nodded.

“She likely wanted to be careful, to help protect our family.”

“It is quite clear however...the idea of what she discovered. That it occurred during a harvest moon.”

“The equinox is a time for powerful magic, the harvest moon is a part of that. When power peeks, so my family adopted the tradition of welcoming new family at that time.”

Newt looked a touch timid still but his inquisitiveness was stronger, the interest clear in his face. Percival just had to keep coaxing that, to lure him all the way in and down until he was far too deep to ever escape.

“When the waheela first encountered humans, wizards and witches, it became clear to them right away. The old stories say so at least, that they knew quickly that humans would overtake all others, that they would be the dominant species. That all magical creatures would suffer for that.”

Newt huffed, shaking his head sadly and clearly agreeing with the grim outlook.

“So they knew they would be doomed, that humanity would scatter them eventually,” he surmised, Percival's mother’s journals outlining all of this already.

“They did. So they decided that if they could not win, it was far better to join them.”

Newt swallowed, his nerves back.

“So they took human mates, breeding with them until it took root and they bore them children, generation after generation until the waheela could become human, until they were born human.”

“And this was all very consensual and proper was it?”

Newt wasn’t a fool.

“It was, at least I was told so,” Percival lied. “People believe waheela eat humans but they never have, they took them as their mates and then hid them away where they would be safe. That was why they weren’t seen again. Secrecy was key, if people ever knew of such a thing.”

“Even today,” Newt breathed and Percival nodded, gaze intent on his chosen mate.

“No one can ever know, it would cause such a panic, cleave the magical world even more than it already is. You can’t disagree with that.”

Newt chewed his lip, gaze far away but he did nod, understanding how fickle the wizarding world was.

Percival didn’t press. The choice was made with the utmost care, to trust Newt with this deep secret. If he wished to reject Percival and leave him then Percival would be tasked with taking the memories from Newt so that their safety would be ensured. Percival would protect his family if he had to but he had no intention of letting Newt go without doing everything he possibly could to keep him.

 

“Tell me about your mother,” Newt requested a few nights after. They were in bed, sex done and sleep settling over them. The moonlight was pouring in from the window and Newt’s skin seemed to glow like marble. While he was distant in the day, he still came to Percival for sexual release. He tried not to show he missed their everyday affection, but sometimes his hands lingered. If Newt noticed it, he didn’t comment.

Percival felt a bit like a love sick fool.

“What about her?”

“Her journals are very interesting but not overly personal. She talked about meeting your father and falling in love but little much. Very careful not to mention his looks. Even when she explains… she doesn’t say it outright. Guarding this secret.”

Percival hummed in agreement, half asleep, face in a cool pillow and at ease.

“She was like that. Very respectful of others, regardless of species. She treated the house elves like dear friends and was kind to the no-maj as well. My mother held all life in high regard.”

“And what was she like as a mother? Her journals detail her professional life more than anything else. I was curious how she took to...everything.”

“She was fiercely protective, always on guard of her family. She doted on us all and adored us very much. But she cautioned us to be careful of the dangers of the world. She was a wonderful mother, always ready to put her work aside and sit on the floor and play for a bit. She used to read to us every night before bed and liked to sing lullabies. She loved to laugh and would tell the most ridiculous jokes. Her touch was gentle and soothing, safe and encouraging.”   

“You loved her very much.”

“I still do,” Percival agreed, more awake now, laying on his side facing Newt with the other man on his back looking up to the roof. “I always will.”

“How do you think she felt? When she learned your family secret?”

“Delighted,” Percival replied easily and Newt turned to look at him.

“My mother was very protective of us but for herself she was fearless. She was entranced with such an idea and very pleased with it. She accepted my father's courting and married him eagerly. My mother loved him and mourned heavily when he was killed.”

“No-maj?”

Percival sighed out.

“No. Not no-maj. They saw him, wizards, and thought he was a monster to be killed, they likely didn’t even think of it as killing. Just a dangerous creature being eliminated.”

Newt’s hand found Percival’s, not taking it but shifting so they were touching.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, I don’t recall him. My mother told me stories but all I recall is her.”

“Then I’m sorry you didn’t have the chance to know him.”

Percival wasn’t sure what to say to such a thing, what was the correct reaction? To make a joke and have a smile, to thank Newt for his sympathy? He settled for taking the man’s hand in his own fully and holding on. Percival felt open and exposed, knowing that Newt had the ability to hurt him deeply. It was hard not to shy away or snap shut that vulnerable feeling. To snarl and warn Newt off in some way. But Percival thought of his mother’s fond smile when she would talk of their father and he wanted that. He was willing to risk himself in this way to try and keep Newt.

He had done all the book has told him to do. Newt was as close to feral as he could be, primed to be mated and bond to Percival. If he could just secure him on the night of the harvest moon, it was unlikely Newt would leave. That growling predator in Percival waited, patient and poised, for his prey to come to him.

 

When the night of the Harvest moon finally arrived, Newt was there still, choosing to remain and learn more. Percival was filled with the joy of success but careful not to show his hand too much. Newt was still very nervous but also clearly excited. The magizoologist in him unable to resist and Percival would take the boon. He knew there was more to it, that Newt was endeared enough to Percival to be willing to stay. That he was giving him his trust and Percival had to make sure not to ruin this gift. To take it and bond them together lovingly.  

So he took Newt out into the forests as the sunset. They walked along the paths unseen with Geraint and Gaheris following and leading, bounding around them. Percival pointed out landmarks and the family stories around them, talking to help ease the nerves both were carrying.  

The anticipation was high in the air but a part of Percival was already certain he had won Newt in the ways that had mattered. Still, he felt a bit anxious as he prepared to show Newt his last secret. It was unlikely Newt would be scared or try to flee, but Percival might be so enamoured that he was making mistakes. He might have chosen wrong and despite knowing that he hadn’t, that fear still nagged at him.  

“The waheela knew they would be overtaken one day, I said before.” he reminded as they walked, knowing the old stories by memory. “So they bred into the magical families to bind them together. The Graves are such a family. We’ve had the bloodline for almost as long as we’ve been in America. My mother had me and my brothers, Geraint and Gaheris. They were born as waheela and I was born as a human. But we are all both human and not, both waheela and not.”

Newt nodded, watching Percival keenly. There was doubt in his eyes, not sure if he believed, but there was also a willingness to listen, to try and believe.

“My mother said once she saw evidence that Waheela spread out across the world seeking magical partners. Your bloodline is the same in a sense, somewhere far back was a waheela ancestor.”

Newt blinked in surprise, pausing in his steps.

“I can sense it,” Percival explained, “I knew a few months into our courtship.”

“I’ve...never heard of it, if that is true,” Newt finally admitted. The idea wasn’t upsetting to him though. If anything, Percival rather thought Newt liked the idea of it.

Of being a step closer to magical creatures.

It was also why they worked so well together. If Newt had tried to be dominant they might have clashed but when he willingly submitted to Percival. A bit more and more as he was coaxed and he slipped into a waheela mindset. A pretty bitch to be taken and claimed. The potions only drew it out more, made Newt a bit more feral. In the way he met gazes or didn’t. In the way he moved and observed, a sharper edge to him now. His bloodline was drawn out and opened, so that he would bond as deeply as Percival.

“We make bonds when we show our intended our true forms,” Percival added and Newt flushed.

“A step closer to a permanent union.”

It was underhanded of him but Percival wouldn't chance it. He refused to lose Newt. So he lied a bit, telling him sex with his waheela form would be like sex with his human form. But in reality it would cement their bond, settle them as mates. Newt’s subconscious coming to see Percival as his one and only mate. His interest in anyone else would fade away.

He would be Percival’s and Percival would be his.

Lifemates, until death parted them.

Some family members were more honest but Percival was already too lost to be fair. He loved Newt and knew he couldn’t lose him. He wanted to give him choice but also not chance him leaving.

He made his choice and one day in their future he’d tell Newt and pay whatever price it was, as long as they were together, bound in a way neither would be able to deny.

“It’s more than likely that you will conceive as well, with the potions you’ve been taking and the spells we’ve been using.”

Newt nodded his head, somehow more at ease with the idea of being impregnated with a magical creature than the idea the Percival was one himself. The thought was delicious however, of Newt carrying his pups, his stomach growing heavy with them.

Percival couldn’t wait.

 

In the clearing where many of his ancestors had stood before him, Percival stripped down and stood before Newt as the harvest moon rose up and his blood sang with ritual power.

The change always hurt a great deal.

Bones changing shape and muscle forced to shift in ways it was never made too. Skin pulled tight enough to rip and fur bursting forth under it. It was like shedding a skin, grotesque to see and filled with aching.

Percival finished panting for air, legs unable to hold him up at first. Geraint and Gaheris were like eager pups to greet him, licking his jaw in submission. Percival grumbled in approval and Waheela greeting.

Newt looked shocked, sitting off to the side in the grass and staring at Percival as he finally managed to stand and shake off the last of the change. His paws sure and true as he took the first few steps in his other form.

“Oh dear,” Newt breathed. “I’d half thought it might not be real…” he admitted softly, looking so wide-eyed as Percival reoriented himself in the other body, scents assaulting him, his hearing sharper but eyesight less.

“You’re utterly gorgeous,” Newt breathed and Percival took the opportunity to press in close to the man. Feeling Newt’s hands run along his fur as he explored him.

Percival was a size larger than his brothers, standing taller and with more bulk. He took care to be gentle as he nudged Newt, pressing his face into his hands so the man would scratch at his face.

“I don’t know what to say, much less what to think. That a magical creature actually planned to breed itself into the human population. That they successfully did so and kept it all a secret, this is amazing.” Newt’s eyes were lit with the bright light of learning and discovery.

“You’re amazing,” he added and Percival just had to nudge him over. Newt felt easily enough and with a chuckle, letting Percival close in and snuggle close affectionately. He pressed the sensation of his affection to Newt, using the telepathy to let the man know he was adored.  

“I care about you as well,” Newt replied, face a bit flushed.

Percival didn’t hesitate to drop his head and push his snout at Newt’s crotch, scenting him there.

“Shameless!” Newt cried without heat, fighting a smile as Percival carefully played with him, pawing at him and catching Newt’s shirt in his teeth to tug at it lightly. They had already talked of this beforehand and Newt knew Percival wanted to mate him in this form. He had agreed to let Percival fuck and knot him already. All he had to do now, was ensure it actually happened, to make the tie.  

“Alright, I see what you’re after,” Newt chuckled lightly as he pulled off his coat and cast a warming charm on his skin as he stripped down. Percival circled him eagerly, body wanting to make a claim, the feral need pushing at him. He couldn’t help but growl at his brothers, warning them off. Percival wouldn’t be the last one to have his little mate this time. He would be the only one. He’d be the first to make the claim, to bond him. Newt would only mate with him this night, to ensure the pups were Percival’s own. He could feel the power pulsing under his skin, magic heavy in the air and the forest around them.

A sacred place to take a mate.

Percival lapped at Newt’s skin as he bared it, his elbow and hip, a thigh and knee. The taste of salt and Newt on his tongue. When he tried to nudge his face in between his legs as Newt stepped out if his pants the human turned a tapped his snout hard enough to startle him.

“Just wait,” he warned, his tone surprisingly firm. His eyes seemed a bit feral as well, perhaps the magic calling to Newt’s distant bloodline, coaxing his own beast to the surface.

Percival waited patiently then, obedient to his would-be-mate. He watched him finally strip bare completely and stretch his arms high over his head.

“It’s a bit freeing, to be nude outside, shameful as well, but a bit fun,” Newt winked and Percival’s tail wagged like a common dog. He thought of all the times Newt had worn the collar and laid out nude in the sun while people sat unknowing. His little dirty pet. How many times had his brothers fucked Newt in plain sight of others, no one ever realizing what they were seeing.

“Come on then,” Newt ushered and Percival hurried close, scenting and lusting for Newt. His brothers tried to weasel in when Newt called and Percival snarled and snapped. They backed off quickly with a whine, both submitting to their elder brother. Knowing already that they would go without this night. But both still eager to welcome Newt into their family and see the bloodline continue.   

Newt would be Percival’s first, his to bond with first and his to breed first.

“Easy,” Newt coaxed him, a hand in his fur, running along his head as Percival glared at his siblings. “No need for that, they know you’re the dominant,” Newt soothed and Percival turned to sniff at his hip, tongue lapping over the warm skin.

He needed Newt to reek of him, to smell of his scent, his claim.

He licked at skin and nudged at Newt, gently knocking him down to his knees. His pressed close and sent waves of affection and lust. Newt smiled down at him, bleeding his own affection as he pet Percival’s snout.

“Shall we?”

Percival hurried to bend his head and scent Newt’s backside. They had prepared beforehand, Percival laying Newt on their bed and fingering him open wide before pushing toys in to open him even more. To keep him on edge, he hadn’t let Newt come at all and the man was both annoyed and very eager now.

Licking at him, Percival nudged and Newt went, down on his hands and knees so Percival could lick at his hole. He was aware in a surprising way, of the feral side of Newt, that if he displeased his mate, he would catch trouble.

He lavished attention on his body, tongue rasping over his hole and down over his cock, making Newt gasp out so sweetly.

“Don’t tease, you teased me for hours today,” Newt grumbled and pushed back on Percival’s snout, reeking of desire. He wanted to be mounted and Percival’s cock dropped from its sheath in eager reaction.

He growled at Gaheris and Geraint so they gave them space, pacing and circling from a distance as Percival took his bride.

Percival didn’t hesitate to mount his new mate, eager to seal the bond between them and breed Newt up. He had spent months working towards this goal, priming Newt to be taken and bred, working so hard to make sure he wanted it, that they would suit well.

His mate.

He pushed himself against Newt’s backside, feeling the warm skin as he lined himself up, trying to catch. Newt let him only for a few thrusts before he was sliding a hand between his thighs to help guide Percival into him. His shoulders touching the dirt as he reached back and found the tip of Percival's cock, lining him up to press into him.

When he felt the tight heat instinct pushed at Percival and he rammed in with more callous than he intended. Newt hissed out but didn’t jerk away, staying down and spread open as Percival claimed him. Now he had the man in every way possible, in every form he had.

The need to move was overwhelming and Percival couldn’t fight it. He jabbed into Newt’s body, wanting to bury deep and breed him, needing to. He couldn’t make himself let up, even as Newt’s cries grew loud and he struggled to stay upright under the force. The drive to take and claim was undeniable. Percival more a beast than anything as he rammed into his new mate.  

“Percy,” Newt gasped out, body arching as he took a release. Percival fucked him through it, wet rough thrusting as the man under him moaned.

The knot came too soon and not soon enough, the need to tie and pump Newt full everything in that moment. Percival had never been so focused, the rest of the world and his responsibilities fading away when faced with the instinctual need to mark and breed.

Newt was his.

Would always be his.

Percival growled in a wild delight as he knotted his new mate, tying them far beyond the physical as Newt whined and let him, accepting his new life.

His mate.

They stayed tied a long while, Percival careful not pull or hurt his mate. When the knot faded down, Percival cleaned his mate’s rump and then knotted him again, wanting to ensure a pregnancy. He managed a third knotting as well, Newt protesting weakly as he was taken a third rough time, claimed. When they finally came apart Newt was exhausted and Percival felt fond of his little mate. He curled his larger form close to Newt afterwards, sweat-soaked and trembling, not able to kneel anymore. He flopped down on his side and Percival made sure to snuggle up to him. Newt whimpered when he began to groom him but Percival's instincts prevailed. He licked at Newt’s thighs, cleaning the excess seed off of him with care. Newt was an utter mess as well, dripping and slicked with three knottings. His poor body reeked in all the best ways and the feral thing in Percival was pleased.  

“I really can’t again, I do mean it this time.” Newt protested and Percival pushed the idea of fond amusement and reassurance he could rest now. He had mated with Percival and that was what mattered. Newt was very likely pregnant now, carrying Percival’s pups. If he hadn’t caught then Percival would just fuck him until he did. He would breed Newt and once a litter was born he’d convince Newt to try with his brothers as well, a whole family unit to raise. Until Newt carried Percival’s children, his brothers would have to wait, Percival having the rights of first breeding as Newt was his mate.   

Beyond pups, the most vital thing was done.

They were bonded as mates.

Newt was his now.

Percival pressed in close, warming Newt with his coat to ward off the night chill as he nosed the man’s face and snuggled in. Newt reaching out and wrapping his arms around Percival’s feral body, happy and content. He radiated with it and Percival echoed the sentiments.

Bonded to Percival for life, his little mate, all his now.

His.  

What more could he want than this perfect mate?

Percival huffed and carefully rested his chin over Newt’s shoulder, sending waves of love to his new mate.

He had always known his life was to be the harder sort, but with that also came the greatest of rewards.

Newt sighed out softly and inched a bit closer to Percival as his brothers laid down with them. They all curled to warm Newt up and Percival thought at that moment that the hardships of his life were well worth it. His whole family pressed close and sharing affection and happiness. Percival was certain that this was well worth any sort of trial or test.

His family.  

 

Newt gave birth to a human baby and a waheela on a rainy weekday morning. Percival was overjoyed and far more emotional than he was willing to admit. He held them both, smiling down at the tiny babes with such a proud adoration. Newt had suspected his reaction already; of them all Percival was the most eager for the kids to be born. Not that Newt wasn’t delighted to not have a constant backache and to see his feet again. Perhaps a bit sad, something about walking around with life inside him had felt rather remarkable. But now they were born and going out into the world. Just like the first two litters.

  
Geriant and Gaheris were beside the bed, watching intently but knowing the newborns were far too delicate for their large forms to interact with just yet. They settled on snuggling the other kids, five little ones Newt’s body had carried and delivered into the world. Of them, there was only one other born a waheela, the others all looking human. Percival had been so pleased, glad to have children that could go out into the world and didn’t need to be hidden away. Newt was working on that as well, trying to device a way to let the waheela appear human or take on human forms in order to see the world without such caution. But it was an uncommon field and research was hard when the intent was a secret, no one outside the family allowed to know about the waheela children.

  
Newt watched his daughters climbing over their uncles, both waheela so content to dote on them. They’d been very patient and a part of Newt was beginning to suspect that Percival would never allow his siblings to breed with Newt.

  
“Another litter more,” he had said last time, insisting on the harvest moon he impregnate Newt a third time rather than let either of his brothers try. It wasn’t like they didn’t all have sex, Geriant and Gaheris wonderful lovers for Newt. No, this was something more animalistic, the primal urge to be the only breeder. Percival liked to think himself above such things but it was becoming very clear he really wasn’t. Thankfully, Geriant and Gaheris were completely fine with it, seeming to take Percival's children as their own in a sense. With them at ease with it, Newt suspected every child he bore would be sired by Percival. Not that he minded, just a bit amused to see Percival so adorably possessive of Newt and his womb.

  
Silly man.

  
“Two boys,” Percival rumbled and Newt smiled. They’d had four girls and one boy so far, the genders evening out a bit now. They watched the pregnancies very closely given the magical nature of a man carrying children mixed with Waheela bloodlines. So they knew what Newt was carrying and their health but Percival liked to not know the genders beforehand, a surprise each time. There was a healer in America from a waheela line himself who helped deliver each time, always so pleased to see more of their kind born into the world. He’d been one of the few people Newt was in collaboration with about finding a magical way to give waheela temporary human forms. A kind man who had been happy to keep the genders a secret for them to discover at birth.

  
Newt was just happy to have healthy little ones, smiling as Percival tried not to tear up over the newborns. Beside the bed, his brothers and their older children all peering, eager to welcome the new members of their family. 

It seemed like the most unlikely life and yet Newt was so content in the moment, watching his family with his heart full. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh Newt, couldn't resist a beast. :3
> 
> Finally finished this, it got so much longer than planned.
> 
> Eyeballing the vampire and forest god fics as well as thinking up so new things. Preparing for all the fic I'm gonna wanna do once I see the new movie! I love me gramander and will keep writing it but my heart is ready to also pair Newt with everyone else, lol. Newt needs all the love and the idea of Albus or Theseus banging him is delicious. I'm also thinking since he meets up with Tina again I might do a au were he meets up with Percival. >:3 Just take that canon and kick it right out the window.


End file.
